


The Boy, the Giant, and Destiny.

by Fable



Series: Merlin [26]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternative Meeting, Beanstalk - Freeform, Bedwarmer, Cloudland, Destiny, First Time, M/M, Running, Storm - Freeform, Tavern Sex, beans, fairytale, giant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-23 23:14:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17692988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fable/pseuds/Fable
Summary: An alternative first meeting between Prince Arthur and Merlin.They are brought together in a storm and, due to circumstances beyond their control, forced to climb a beanstalk into another world before their destiny together begins. Based on a fairy-tale.





	The Boy, the Giant, and Destiny.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rewrite of an old fic.

Arthur dropped his head as rain drove into his face like iron rods. He cursed under his breath. The trees in the forest danced around him as he squeezed water from his eyes and tried to focus on the murky middle distance. He knew he wasn’t far from the village of Ealdor; Gaius, his physician, had a friend who lived there, a woman that Arthur had seen occasionally around Camelot. Maybe she would offer him refuge. Arthur spurred his horse and urged her through the storm.

Forty minutes later Arthur pressed a coin into the hand of a ragtag stable boy and chucked his horse’s reins at him. Battling to keep his cape around him in the vicious wind, he tucked in his chin and trudged up the muddy high street. Arthur stopped at a small dwelling on the outskirts of the village and knocked on the door. The smell of wood-smoke and boiled meat drifted around him as it opened.

A woman, silhouetted against the softly lit interior, stood with her fingers fanned across her breastbone and her mouth slack. She lumbered back a step or two. ‘Sire?’

‘Hunith?’

‘Yes… um… please, please enter.’ Hunith opened the door wider and Arthur stepped into the tiny house. Warmth enveloped him as he ducked his head under a low beam and stood dripping onto the stone floor. He’d always liked the small stone houses in the outlying villages, so much more homely than his huge castle with a draft under every door.

‘Hunith, I know you are a friend of Gaius. Would you be so kind as to offer me shelter from the storm?’

‘Why of course, Sire. I will fetch you some dry clothes and you are welcome to share our evening meal.’

‘You are most kind.’ Arthur smiled at the woman whose neck had flushed.

Hunith swept her arm towards the fireplace ‘This is my son, Merlin. Merlin, _this_ is Prince Arthur of Camelot.’

Arthur looked towards the hearth. Sat on a small wooden stool peeling turnips was a boy. Well, maybe not so much a boy, more a young man. He stood, with all the grace of a new born fowl, spraying the peelings across the floor.

Ignoring the chaos, he bowed, ‘My Lord.’ His eyes, like blue glass in the candlelight, gazed at Arthur from under raven hair as amber-coloured shadows from the fire danced on his pale skin.

Arthur found himself staring at the boy for longer than was socially acceptable as sparks of unseen light charged the air. _What the hell? Erm, no._ Arthur chastised _. Peasant boy… ungainly, scrawny, and poor._ He pursed his lips as he grappled with the clasp on his cape.

‘Please, allow me, Sire.’ Merlin’s voice had a smooth swaying lilt.

_Okay, beautiful voice. Erm, still no._

Arthur allowed Merlin’s long fingers to undo his cape. They touched the exposed skin on his neck and a jolt fizzed through every bone.  He cleared his throat, ‘You’re not from these parts are you?’ _Stupid, stupid opening line._

‘No, Sire. We’ve travelled over from the Kingdom of Meath some five years ago now.’ The soft brogue slid over Arthur’s shoulder as Merlin worked on the back clips of his rerebrace.

Hunith busied in with some dry clothes. ‘They're all I have, Sire, they belonged to Merlin’s father but, they’ll keep you warm.’ The lid of a large black pot chattered on the stove so Hunith put the clothes at Merlin’s feet and turned to attend to it.

‘I am grateful, Hunith.’ Arthur turned to face Merlin. His wet shirt clung to his torso and his breeches were tracking rivulets into his boots. There was a long pause before Merlin reached out and fingered the hem of the Prince’s shirt.

‘What does your father do for work?’ Arthur spluttered in a bid to make conversation.

‘My father is dead.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry.’ And Arthur genuinely was. ‘What did he do?’

Merlin smiled. ‘He looked after large flying creatures.’

‘What? Like storks?’

‘Something like that.’

Arthur’s breath quickened as Merlin said, ‘Arms, Sire.’

‘Sorry?’

‘Raise your arms, Sire.’

Arthur raised his arms as Merlin wriggled his sodden shirt over his head. He then slipped a dry shirt back in its place. Arthur coughed before saying, ‘Um. I can manage the rest.’

Merlin quirked a smile before he stooped to sweep up the turnip peelings.

***

The tireless rain drummed on the thatched roof and there was a loud plinking sound as bloated drops hit the tin buckets placed under numerous holes. The Prince and the two inhabitants of Ealdor squashed around a small wooden table in front of the fire. Hunith’s stew and griddled barms were doing their job of appeasing Arthur’s growling belly. On the table, off centre, was a cracked china bowl containing, what Arthur presumed to be, beans. But, they were the most unusual beans he’d had ever seen, not that he’d seen many, the kitchens in the Citadel were not his usual haunt. They looked like small bird eggs - watery green with brown spots splashed over their surface. He nodded his head towards them, ‘They’re strange beans.’

‘Ah, yes,’ Hunith replied, ‘there’s a long story attached to them.’ She scowled sideways at her son. ‘Merlin was supposed to sell our best milking cow so we could afford to patch up the roof.’ She flicked her eyes towards the ceiling. ‘But, for some unbeknownst reason, he came back with no cow and a handful of beans.’ She swept her hand across the bowl. Merlin flushed and slid down in his chair. ‘Apparently…’ Hunith continued, ‘they will make us enough money to build a new house if we wanted to.’ She stood and cuffed her son around the head.

‘Owww.’ Merlin whined.

Hunith gathered the empty bowls, muttered, ‘stupid boy,’ and then busied herself at the sink.

Arthur twisted towards Merlin who had a face like a crumpled up rag. ‘So what’s the score with the beans?’

‘The old man told me to plant them and they would bring us great fortune. He was really _really_ persistent. Before I knew it he had the cow and I had the beans.’ The flush on Merlin’s cheeks crept up and turned his ears crimson. ‘And just so you understand, I’m not stupid.’ There was a long silence before Merlin added in a quiet voice, ‘Not that you should care if I was, Sire.’

 _But I do care. Why do I care?_ Arthur narrowed his eyes and considered the dopey looking boy sat opposite. There was something that intrigued him -  a spark, an aura, a sense. He did look stupid but Arthur had a strong feeling he wasn’t.

‘The storm’s still raging, My Lord. You’re welcome to stay tonight, you can have my bed.’ Hunith said and pointed towards a cot in the corner of the room.

‘Nonsense, Hunith. I will not hear of it.’ Arthur said. ‘I’m sure Merlin here won’t mind giving me his bed for the night.’

Merlin’s breath hitched before he replied. ‘I only have a mattress in the outhouse.’

‘That’s fine.’ Arthur grinned at him.

***

Arthur settled on the mattress while Merlin lay on a blanket on the floor next to sacks of turnips. As the wind battered the trees making them creak and groan, the rain struck the wooden roof of the shack like a thousand coins from heaven.

There was one candle set on the floor between them. It was nearly spent and on its last few flickers of life. Arthur twisted around on the mattress to face Merlin. Dust motes puffed up so he blew out to avoid breathing them in. Merlin was lying on his side regarding Arthur - in the half-candlelight his blue eyes looked like bottomless pools.

‘Why were you riding alone in the forest, Sire?’ Merlin’s words were almost lost amongst the hubbub.

Arthur shrugged. ‘Sometimes I need to ride, to escape, you know.’ He wasn’t sure why he’d opened up so readily to the strange boy lying opposite.

‘Yes, yes I do,’ Merlin replied and Arthur was sure he did.

A lull blanketed the room for a moment as Arthur listened to the large drops hitting the buckets. He shuffled and dragged his blanket up to his chin. ‘Good God, it’s chilly in here,’ he complained.

Merlin stole a breath, ‘I heard that you have personal bed warmers…’ he hesitated before saying ‘…boys, who warm your bed for you before you get in.’

Arthur flustered, ‘Erm, yes.’

‘Do they stay?’

‘What?’

‘In your bed, do they stay?’

Arthur raised his eyebrows and said carefully, ‘Merlin, I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking to.’

‘Yes, Sire, of course. Forgive me.’ Merlin pulled a blanket over his face.

Arthur studied the hump of covers and sighed, ‘Okay, sometimes they stay.’

Merlin poked his head out and chewed his lip for a second before saying, ‘I could warm your bed for you, Sire?’

_Okay. Okay. No. No. Stupid idea. Okay._

A few breaths passed before Arthur said, ‘Okay.’

Merlin sat up as the last of the candle died and the storeroom was thrown into darkness. The next thing Arthur knew was his blankets were lifted to one side and a warm body crawled into the space next to him. Merlin was all pointy elbows and hipbones and smelt musky and so very inviting. Arthur felt him settle in on the narrow mattress, Merlin’s hips were nudged into his stomach and his ankles were occupying the space in-between his feet. Arthur held his breath as Merlin nuzzled into his neck and puffed warm air on his skin. Arthur lay like a toy soldier on its side, rigid and unmoving.

‘Are you warmer, My Lord?’ Merlin whispered against his neck.

_Warmer. Yes. Excited, aroused and stirred? Absolutely._

Arthur cleared his throat. That morning at breakfast it had been all sunshine, rolled hams and talk of tournaments. Now he was on the floor of a cold dusty shack listening to a violent storm with a warm peasant boy pressed up against him. ‘Erm… yes,’ he finally replied.

Merlin’s breathing shifted into a regular pattern. Arthur relaxed into him and slipped his arm across the boy’s slender waist. Merlin gave a sleepy sigh, slid his own arm around the Prince, and then shoved up closer. Something shifted deep down in Arthur and he emitted a stifled moan as his body finally betrayed him.

Then the ground shook.

Arthur and Merlin rolled off the mattress as one and onto the floor. Arthur leapt to his feet sweeping up his sword as he went. ‘What the _hell_?’ he yelled.

The ground beneath their feet was like standing on the back of a galloping horse. Both men swung their arms in a spinning motion to keep upright. ‘What’s going on?’ Arthur shouted as he made his way to the door.

Hunith was on the floor tangled up in her blankets, her face ashen with fear. Merlin ran to her. She pointed towards the small table. The china bowl containing the beans did a jaunty dance before jumping off the table and smashing onto the floor. The beans spilled out and, within seconds, they’d sprouted. Small bluey-green leaves, curled up like a fist poked their way into the world. They grew rapidly, fist uncurling to reveal two leaves then five leaves like an outspread hand. The hand of leaves grew upwards on a thick arm of a stalk.

‘Merlin, what _are_ those beans?’ Arthur barked with one hand on his sword the other holding onto the door frame. Merlin opened his mouth to speak and then shut it again.

‘MERLIN!’ Arthur yelled as the leafy stalks now reached the top of the fireplace.

‘He said not to get them wet until they were planted far away from the house. They must have been dripped on.’ Merlin was now by Arthur’s side and the stalks were reaching the ceiling, twisting around each other to form a broad trunk as they went.

‘We need to get out of here,’ Arthur roared as the beanstalk drove its way through the thatched roof. ‘NOW!’

Merlin picked up his mother like a rag doll and half-dragged her towards the door. A vicious shudder propelled them out and into the mud of the street. On their hands and knees they crawled away from the chaos then span around to watch it. The tiny house looked like a ship in a tempest, rocking violently on a mucky sea.

Without warning Hunith leapt up and ran towards the house. ‘MOTHER!’ Merlin yelled.

‘I have to save my ring; it’s the only thing I have left of your father.’ Her words faded as she disappeared through the doorway. Merlin scrambled for purchase in the mud and started towards the door.

‘No, it’s too late.’ Arthur snatched his ankle and pulled him down.

The house gave one last death throw and then, with a loud squeal, was wrenched from its foundations and hoisted up on the stalk as it grew to almighty proportions. Stones, wood, thatch, furniture, and clothing, showered onto the ground as Merlin’s house disintegrated.

‘MOTHER!’ Merlin screamed at Hunith’s limp body was slung over a branch and carried off into the unknown.

 ***

The storm abated, scared off it seemed by the monstrosity that now stood where Merlin’s home once was. If ten men held hands and stood in a circle, they would barely be able to brush fingers around the beanstalk. Merlin stood at its base and tipped his head backwards. It was still growing, still swelling. Ugly callouses pulsed out of the stalk at regular intervals and twisted into leaves within a blink of an eye.

In the weak early light, Arthur stood by Merlin’s side, sword in hand and caked in mud. ‘We need to wait until it stops growing.’ He knew that Merlin intended to climb it, intended to rescue his mother, because that’s what he would have done.

‘I’m going now,’ Merlin said before he spun to face the Prince. ‘We? Sire?’

‘You have no idea what you’re going to find. You’ll to need me.’

‘Thank you, Sire, but I am capable of looking after myself.’

Arthur tipped his head to one side and viewed Merlin. He didn’t look like a warrior but Arthur was certain he could look after himself but he didn’t know why he knew that. Merlin intrigued him. He followed Merlin’s gaze skyward, the stalk seemed never-ending.

Then the plant came to a shuddering halt.

The lower leaves quivered and then stilled. Arthur glanced over at Merlin, the tendons were standing out on his neck and his lips were pressed hard together. Arthur took a deep breath. ‘Ready?’

‘Ready.’

Both men started to scramble up the stalk. ‘Don’t you have a weapon?’ Arthur searched Merlin’s body for a sword, or dagger, or at least an axe.

‘I don’t need one.’

‘Invincible are you?’

‘Something like that.’ Merlin scurried past him, light and nimble; he was a better climber than Arthur. The branches were smooth to the touch like river tumbled pebbles and didn’t afford much grip. Never-the-less they made good progress.

By mid-day Arthur’s legs hurt but he’d never admit it and judging by the strained look on Merlin’s face, his legs felt the same. The stalk was getting thicker, more branches and bigger leaves but they were still nowhere near the top.

‘Let’s rest for a while.’ Arthur found a wide leaf and collapsed onto it expelling a puff of air as he settled back. The leaf wobbled alarmingly as Merlin crawled on next to him. Arthur met his gaze; his blue eyes were watery and ringed with dark circles.

‘I’ll get her back, Merlin,’ Arthur said softly.

‘You will?’

‘I can do anything.’

‘I’ve heard you can’t dress yourself, bathe yourself, clean your armour, make your bed, or…um, polish your sword.’ Merlin gave a half-smile at his double entendre. ‘How far do you reckon it is to the top?’

‘It can’t be that far.’ Arthur lied as he squinted at the spot where the stalk disappeared through the clouds.

‘I can’t lose her.’ Merlin’s voice cracked.

‘We won’t lose her.’ Arthur slapped Merlin on the shoulder. He knew full well what it was like to be mother-less.

They pushed on, stopping periodically to rest and look at the view far below them. Tiny beige dots denoted dwellings and ribbons of blue represented the rivers with green smudges for trees along their banks.

‘From the Seas of Meredor to the Ridge of Asetir is Camelot.’ Arthur pointed during one of their rest breaks. ‘And, one day, it will all be mine.’

‘That’s a lot of responsibility, My Lord.’

Arthur just nodded.

They climbed until the sun set and the light disappeared.

‘We have to stop for the night; we can’t continue in the dark it’s too dangerous.’ Arthur settled into a large U-shaped hollow between a branch and the stalk.

Merlin’s face was pinched and the muscles on his arms were raised from over-work. ‘I have to keep going,’ he said as he shimmied past Arthur.

‘It’s too dangerous; we’ll set off again at first light.’ Arthur seized Merlin’s wrist and pulled him down into the hollow. Merlin exhaled heavily and allowed Arthur to man-handle him into a half-laying position next to him.

Both men sat in silence for a while. Merlin, Arthur presumed, was dwelling on the safety of his mother. Arthur meanwhile, was enjoying his freedom from the expectations of the Crown Prince of Camelot. Despite himself, he was also enjoying the company of the dark haired boy. But, he had spent most of the day inanely chattering about something or another. Arthur couldn’t decide whether it was annoying or endearing. Even so, in other circumstances, he might even have said he was having a good time. He flapped his arms around his body and shivered. He wasn’t, however, enjoying the bitter wind.

‘Cold again, Sire?’ Merlin shifted his weight and jammed up against the Prince. Bony hipbones and elbows jutted once again into Arthur’s side as he felt an exchange of body heat. Arthur looked into Merlin’s face, yet again finding himself staring at the boy for longer than was natural. Merlin’s breathing was laboured, his chest visibly rising and falling. Arthur’s stomach flipped over, only once, but it was enough.

A silence spread across them like a blanket but Arthur knew Merlin was staring at him.

‘What?’

‘I’ve heard chatter about the Prince of Camelot.’

‘Oh, what does this _chatter_ say?’

‘Rude, arrogant, self-centred…’

‘Oh, lovely.’

‘But, you’re not like that.’

‘No?’

‘No.’

Arthur faced Merlin who was looking straight at him, mouth parted and eyes wide. A prickling sensation fizzed up from his toes and he was acutely aware of his own heart as he leaned in and kissed him. An entirely inappropriate kiss considering their situation - Merlin’s mother was missing, maybe dead; they were balanced precariously up in the clouds, and hadn’t eaten or drank for a day and were weaker for it. _Why the hell did you do that? What were you expecting? A shag on a beanstalk? A blowjob amongst the clouds?_

He expected Merlin to pull away. He didn’t. His mouth was as warm and inviting as mead on Christmas Eve and Arthur took great pleasure in devouring it.

Breathing hard, they parted. Warmth spread across Arthur’s cheeks and down his neck, he looked at his fingers. Again. A few heartbeats passed before he said, ‘Erm, yes, well, we should get some sleep.’

‘Yes, Sire, of course.’ Arthur could hear merriment tinkling in Merlin’s words. He sliced his sword across a nearby leaf and fashioned a kind of blanket over them as they pressed further into the stalk before drifting into a fitful sleep.

***

‘For _God’s_ sake, how much further is it?’ Merlin moaned from two to three branches below Arthur.

They had been surrounded by a thick swirling mist for the last half an hour that chilled Arthur to the bone. ‘We’re now in the clouds and the stalk is getting thinner, it can’t be far.’ Arthur’s hands hurt and the hunger in his belly was all-consuming, he sincerely hoped it wasn’t far.

And, as if to prove some kind of point, the mist parted in front of his eyes. Arthur froze in mid-step.

‘Sire?’ Merlin shouted from below him. ‘What is it? Why have you stopped?’

Arthur reached down and grabbed Merlin’s tunic and without a word hauled him up like a parcel onto his branch.

‘What the hell?’ Merlin’s voice rang out as he grasped Arthur to steady himself.

‘Look…’

‘What?’

‘Look!’

 Merlin twisted away from Arthur and did as commanded. The sight spread before the two men was a land - an impossible and implausible land above the clouds.

***

A curling fog lapped up against a woodland of dry and twisted trees dense with swollen fruit. A waning moon, the colour of a stagnant pond, hung in a hazy sky. The air was heavy with moisture and a pungent smell of rotting meat filled Arthur’s nose making him blink. There was white noise on the breeze – indistinct music that made no sense. Arthur took a tentative step off the beanstalk, he prodded his toe into the mist until it felt firm, only then would he allow his whole foot to be planted.

Without warning Merlin hurtled past him. ‘MOTHER!’ he yelled.

 _Bloody hell, this boy’s impulsive._ Then Arthur noticed the Merlin’s house, a broken and lonely shape slumped in the mist. It was tilting dangerously to one side and had long since lost its roof. Merlin charged through the open door and disappeared. Arthur, forgetting about what was under foot, ran after him.

He found Merlin pacing in the ruin. ‘She’s not here,’ he glanced at Arthur with a pained expression.

Arthur couldn’t help but slip an arm around his neck and pull him in. ‘We’ll find her. Come on.’

Outside Merlin grabbed a couple of large fruits from the nearest tree. They were unlike anything in Camelot, shaped like a puffy star with skin like old brown paper.

‘Do you think they’re safe to eat?’ Arthur was hungry, but he wasn’t sure he was _that_ hungry.

‘Soon find out.’ Merlin ripped one in two and devoured the orange flesh. ‘Tastes like carrots.’ He took another bite. ‘And horse shit.’

‘Tasted horse shit, have you?’

Merlin smiled a smile that said he’d tasted a lot of things in his time.

Arthur dissected a fruit with his sword, screwed up his face, popped a piece in his mouth and shrugged. ‘S’ok.’

Arthur won the argument about which direction to take and they set off, walking away from the beanstalk towards the edge of the tree line. The ground was smooth under foot and it gave Arthur a rather unsteady feeling, like he was drunk. They rounded the last gnarly tree and stopped abruptly. It was now clear to Arthur where Hunith was - she was in the gargantuan shape which loomed in front of them. A black irregular shaped fortress surrounded in strangulating mists with a halo of black birds spinning its turrets. He glanced at Merlin just as the ground vibrated. The vibrations turned into shakes. Arthur and Merlin began to totter backwards and forwards then, like a rug had been pulled from under them, they collapsed in a tangled heap.

They heard the cause of the shaking before they saw it. A throaty rumbling, like a hundred dogs growling, forced its way into Arthur’s ears. Peering out from behind the nearest tree he saw it, or him, to be more precise. A giant of a man stood amongst the withered forest, he was as tall as the highest tower in Camelot and as wide as twenty men. His forehead was partly obscured in the blurry sky but Arthur could still make out savage features – bulging black eyes set in candle yellow skin, a crooked nose lined with purple abrasions and a wicked mouth with a row of gravestone teeth. He had in one fist a cow. The terrified animal bellowed out its distress, but to no avail, it was eaten in one swallow. In the other enormous fist was a club, long metal protrusions were hammered into it at irregular intervals.

‘Who or _what_ the hell is that?’ Arthur hissed.

Before Merlin had chance to answer the Giant began to move. Every footfall generated a small earthquake under Arthur’s backside. The Giant inhaled with a sickening sound and the tops of the trees bent towards the draw of air. A growl paved the way for a booming voice. ‘FE FI FO FOUR. I SMELL THE BLOOD OF A SORCERER.’

‘What?’ Arthur peered out again to see the Giant swinging his club in wide arcs through the trees. The sound was ear-splitting, trees squealed as they were ripped from the ground and hung lifeless on the end of the club. Arthur turned towards Merlin and looked over his shoulder expecting to see someone else.

‘FE FI FO FOUR. I SMELL THE BLOOD OF A SORCERER.’ The words boomed behind them followed by disgusting sniffing noises.

‘Run!’ Arthur yelled and they ran, Merlin as if he were a deer caught in crossfire, and Arthur as if he were dodging overhead arrows.

Arthur turned just as the Giant saw them. ‘MEN,’ he roared, ‘I LIKE MEN SANDWICHES AND MEN SOUP AND MEN STEW.’

Two huge fingers jabbed at them like birds peck at a worm. Arthur stabbed at the great digits with his sword just as they grabbed Merlin by the tunic. Arthur wrapped his arms tightly around the flailing boy and pulled down just as the Giant pulled up.

There was no competition on strength but there didn’t need to be as Merlin wriggled out of his tunic and fell to the ground half-naked with Arthur still wrapped around him. A few beats followed as both men eyed each other and their position.

 _Later. Definitely later._ Arthur curled the corner of his mouth into a grin before dragging Merlin to his feet. They ran twisting and weaving between trees and around impossible floating boulders. The Giant was left looking bemused at the tiny tunic in his fat fingers. Arthur presumed that his brain wasn’t in proportion to his body.

They reached the enormous rotting timber door of the fortress. Luck was with them as there was enough space to roll underneath and into a long corridor.

They both froze.

Dust floated in the air which coated their tongues and the smell was terrible – yeasty smells mixed with rancid breath smells, like the tavern on a Saturday night but one hundred times worse. Under their feet half the flagstones were missing leaving dark gaping holes and on the cobweb strewn walls were sundials that were lit by glowing spheres. The indistinct noise was louder here like a high pitched twang. But, the most eye-popping sight was the jewels, coins and other wonders that lay thrown on either side of the corridor. Twinkling in the candlelight they laid a trail of temptation leading off into the darkness.

Grabbing a candle the size of a man’s arm they made their way down the corridor avoiding the missing flagstones. According to the glowing sundials they had been walking for minus half a day, the air turned from moist and rancid into warm and burnt. They rounded a sharp corner to find themselves in the biggest room Arthur had ever seen and was ever likely to see. He assumed it was the great hall of the castle. To the right hand side was an enormous fireplace with a whole herd of cows roasting on spits. In the centre was a table the size of a house and two chairs which sat like outbuildings. The indistinct noise they’d heard before was music and its source was a golden harp placed on a high shelf. A carving of a naked woman adorned one side and the strings were playing themselves. The music was beautiful and grated against its environment.

Merlin sprinted off across the room looking like a pale gazelle, ‘MOTHER,’ he yelled. In an upturned basket surrounded by jewels and weighed down with a huge silver spoon was Hunith with her knees folded up to her chin and her arms knotted across them, her hair was knotted and her face was dirty. Arthur pelted after him.

‘Mother,’ Merlin repeated as he knelt next to the basket. He pushed his fingers through the open weave to join hers. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Merlin! Oh, Merlin. Yes, son, I’m okay. There’s a Giant man…’

‘…I know, Mother, don’t worry.'

Hunith unfurled her fist. 'I got it.' Her ring, covered in mud, sat on her palm.

Merlin smiled. 'That's great, Mother.' He looked around. 'Why are you still alive?'

'He prefers men apparently.'

'Don't we all.'

'Sorry?'

'Nothing. We’ll get you out of here.’

‘We’ll?’

‘Prince Arthur.’

‘Prince Arthur?

‘Yes.’

Hunith raised her eyebrows. ‘Merlin?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why are you half-naked?’

‘I’ll explain later.’ Merlin leapt up to swing on the spoon just as the ground started its now familiar shaking.

‘Hurry, we need to hurry,’ Arthur hissed as he threw all his weight into pulling on the silver handle. The load of the two men over-balanced the spoon and it tumbled off the basket making a loud clanging noise on the flagstones. Arthur pushed the basket over and all three of them froze and listened. Nauseating sniffing noises echoed across the Great Hall.

‘FE FI FO FOUR. I SMELL THE BLOOD OF A SORCERER.’

‘Why does he keep saying that?’ Arthur muttered as he hauled Hunith off the floor. Merlin shrugged as Hunith dusted down her skirts.

The floor heaved like the surface of the sea, the harp silenced, and Arthur heard Merlin pull a long intake of breath. He twisted to follow his stare. His whole view was filled by the Giant. The room had vanished behind sickening coloured skin and two black bulging eyes that were yards from his face.

A pimply wet tongue snaked out of a cruel mouth. ‘YUM, MEN, I LOVE MEN.’

Arthur grabbed Hunith by the wrist and pushed Merlin out in front of him. ‘RUN.’ The Giant reacted by making deafening guffawing sounds and swung his ginormous hands this way and that in an attempt to seize his quarry. They ducked and dived between chair legs and around boots the size of horses. Arthur dragged Hunith in his wake while Merlin swept up small gems and stuffed them in his pockets.

‘Time and a place, Merlin,’ Arthur hollered, ‘we need to save our lives, not pick up souvenirs.’

Merlin threw Arthur a cheeky grin before yelling back, ‘The old man was right, with these we can build a new house, a bigger house.’

They darted down the corridor with the dials and missing flagstones. All the while the Giant was breathing down their necks. With great howls he swiped at his prey and, fortunately, kept missing. They rolled under the rotting door and ran. There was an ear splitting sound as the Giant crashed through it, long wooden splinters rained around them as they sprinted. They pelted past the twisted forest and past Merlin’s broken house. Quakes vibrated up through Arthur’s legs telling him the Giant was close. He practically threw Hunith and Merlin onto the top of the stalk and with his heart thundering in his chest he shouted, ‘DOWN. CLIMB DOWN.’ All three started to scramble down but they weren’t quick enough, two giant fingers plucked Merlin off the stalk by his breeches like a crow eating corn.

‘MERLIN,’ Hunith screamed.

Arthur watched Merlin spinning from his ankle like a weather vane in a gale. He also watched his stolen gems work loose from his pockets and sprinkle to the ground.

‘Go. Arthur. Save my mother,’ Merlin yelled. ‘I can look after myself.’

Arthur hesitated. A whole herd of emotions stampeded through him and images of what could be and what should be flashed through his mind. He glanced at Hunith and swallowed hard. He afforded Merlin one more glance. ‘I’ll come back for you,’ he yelled.

Arthur and Hunith half-scrambled and half-fell down the stalk until Hunith cried out for rest. As they paused to catch their breath, Arthur scrubbed a hand across his face and through his hair. He looked up through the leafy canopy as far as he could see. ‘Hunith,’ he said, ‘do you think you can climb down on your own?’

Merlin’s mother paused before saying, ‘you would risk your life for him?’

‘Yes, but please don’t tell my father.’ Arthur gave Hunith an encouraging smile.

‘He will be okay you know.’

‘How can you be so sure?’ Arthur asked.

Hunith didn’t answer but instead said, ‘I felt it you know.’

‘What?’

‘The fizz in the air when you saw each other for the first time.’

‘ _Good God_ , was it that obvious?’ A blush crept up Arthur’s cheeks.

A silence passed between them before Arthur nodded at her and began to scramble back up the stalk. He was right though, if the King could see him now, risking his life for a peasant, he’d think his son had lost his mind. Arthur hadn’t lost his mind however; he was beginning to feel he may have lost a piece of his heart. Hand over hand and foot over foot Arthur turned his mind to nothing but climbing so when he found himself face to arse with Merlin he let out a loud gasp.

‘Merlin? How the _hell_?’

Merlin dropped down onto Arthur’s branch and grinned at him. ‘Oh, I’m quite an escape artist when I want to be.’

Arthur tipped his head back and blew out a long puff of air. ‘Thought you were a goner.’

‘But you still came back to save me.’

‘Yes, not sure why.’ Arthur gave Merlin a good-natured shove.

‘I am.’ Merlin leaned in and pressed his lips onto Arthur’s. They were soft and warm and oh so inviting. Arthur groaned as he felt long cold fingers curl around his neck and pull him in.

‘Merlin?’ he whispered into his mouth, ‘what happened to the Giant?’

‘He’ll probably be heading this way in five minutes.’ Merlin’s words vibrated deliciously against Arthur’s lips and he relished the sensation until the words sunk in.

‘Five minutes?’ Arthur reluctantly pulled away.

Merlin looked sheepish, ‘Um, yes.’

‘We have to go. Now.’ Arthur twisted Merlin around by the bare shoulder and pushed him down the stalk.

It had taken nearly two days to climb up the beanstalk however with the Giant on their tail it seemed to take only the blink of an eye to half-fall back down. They collected Hunith on the way and as the stalk bent and twisted violently under the weight of the Giant they began to make out the pattern of Ealdor below them.

Arthur pushed them off the last bit of the stalk and without stopping to draw breath drew his sword and began to hack at the base. Merlin ran to the blacksmiths, picked up an axe, and in front of a group of surprised villagers the Prince and the peasant sliced and chopped.

Arthur looked up as two enormous boots appeared out of the gloom. The Giant was nearly upon them. With every last drop of energy he howled as he struck the last stroke. The stalk wavered and then toppled. A great roar went up as the Giant a hit the ground. Everyone lost their footing in the ensuing earthquake and tumbled over. Then silence.

Arthur and Merlin lay on the ground, legs knitted together, unmoving and panting. Arthur closed his eyes. When he opened them again he was surrounded by a ring of red capes containing the Knights of Camelot.

‘Sire, the King has been frantic with worry. We are to escort you back to Camelot,’ Sir Leon said.

Arthur tipped his head towards Merlin and took a long look at the half-naked filthy boy lying next to him. ‘I’ll make my own way home. Tonight, I am staying in Ealdor,’ he winked at Merlin which made the boy visibly shudder then winked at Leon.

Leon sighed, ‘But, Sire…’

‘No buts, tell the King I’m fine and I’ll see him tomorrow.’

‘Yes, Sire.’

Arthur dragged Merlin to his feet. ‘We have no house,’ Merlin said staring at the space where his home once stood. Hunith joined them and slipped her arms around Merlin.

‘I’m staying at a neighbour’s tonight; however, I know there’s a room free at the tavern.’ She curtsied at Arthur, ‘Thank you, My Lord,’ and then kissed her son on the forehead before turning away.

‘Tavern then.’ Arthur said.

‘Tavern.’ Merlin repeated.

***

Washed and changed into clean clothes with food and ale in their stomachs, Arthur and Merlin sat in front of the tavern’s roaring fire.

'Think I like the half-naked filthy boy better.' Arthur smiled.

Merlin tugged at his white tunic. 'I can supply him if you desire.'

'Maybe that can be a date for another time.'

'A date, Sire?'

Arthur coughed and changed the subject. ‘What are you going to do now?’

‘Build my mother a new house and then, I don’t know.’

‘You have no money.’

‘I have this.’ Merlin pulled out of his breeches a large egg as gold as the sun.

‘Where did you get _that_?’

‘From a huge white goose just after I freed her.’

‘So you fought the Giant and freed a magic goose?’

Merlin scratched his ear and pouted.

‘I think there’s more to you than meets the eye, Merlin.’

‘Me, Sire? No, I’m just a peasant.’

Arthur smiled at the boy sat opposite him.

‘So, Sire, it’s a cold night, would you like me to warm your bed for you?’ Merlin’s eyes narrowed and his lips parted just a little.

‘Yes.’ _No thought needed._

‘And can I stay?’

Arthur’s breath hitched, ‘You can stay.’

***

The bed chamber in the tavern was tiny with two narrow cots shoved up against the walls. A single candle sat on a small table in the middle of the room. There was a distinct chill in the air; Arthur could almost see his breath. He sat on the nearest cot, it complained under his weight as he stooped to take off his boots.

‘Allow me, Sire.’ Merlin’s accent ran smooth into Arthur’s ears as he knelt in front of him and pulled off one boot and then the other. Arthur watched him, his hair reflected blue highlights in the candlelight and as he lifted his face towards him, his eyes were shadowy against his pale skin. Arthur became aware of how much his heart was beating and how sweaty his palms had become. Merlin stood and lifted Arthur to his feet. He leaned in and murmured into Arthur’s ear ‘Would you like me to undress you, Sire?’

Arthur's knees loosened and he swallowed hard. He had _had_ a few _bed warmers_ in his time but this boy was different, not one of them had made him feel weak at the knees. He didn’t reply, it seemed he didn’t need to; Merlin took his ragged breath and wide eyes as a yes.

Long fingers played with the hem of his tunic for a second before lifting it clean off and abandoning it across the room. With light touches Merlin ran his hands down Arthur’s chest, pausing to trace the line of a long battle scar. His face inches away, his breath sweet on his cheek. Arthur sighed, he was already willing to give into this boy, to give him whatever he wanted.

The fingers worked their way around his waist towards the laces on his breeches. There was no covering up the fact that Arthur was aroused and as Merlin worked loose the ties he took his shoulders for support. The breeches dropped and Merlin kicked them across the room. Arthur leaned in, he needed that mouth. He dropped a hand down into the small of Merlin’s back, hauled the boy into him, and enclosed Merlin’s lips with his. He was rewarded with soft whimpers and delicate quivers. Merlin stepped back, ran his tongue across his lips, and lifted his tunic over his head before quickly dropping his breeches. Arthur blew a little puff of air. Strongly build he was not, but in the flickering half-light his pale skin shone and Arthur was desperate to get lost in the long limbs. Merlin held his gaze for a moment before peeling back the blankets on the nearest cot and climbing in. He wriggled around for a second or two, he face creased momentarily with the chill. Arthur didn’t wait for an invite and climbed in next to him. Again, all sharp elbows and hipbones jutted into him but he was also warm and soft and aroused. Merlin tipped Arthur’s head back to expose his throat and kissed a hot line down to his collarbone.

‘This is not your first time is it?’ Arthur murmured as Merlin stroked his inner thighs.

‘No, My Lord.’

‘Good.’ There was mischief in Arthur’s voice as he tipped Merlin onto his back. Arthur moved on top of him and, supporting some of his weight on his arms, he began to swing up and down, applying pressure as he went. Merlin mewled with every shift in their bodies. On the up motion Arthur took Merlin’s lips in his and on the down motion he ran his tongue around Merlin’s nipples. Merlin raised his hips, sucked a long breath, and dug his nails into Arthur’s back. Their bodies were now slick and Arthur was on the edge. He rested along the length of Merlin as the boy knotted his fingers into his hair and placed desperate little kisses on his jawline.

‘Take me.’ Merlin’s voice cracked.

‘All of you?’

‘All of me.’ his voice was barely audible.

‘Soon.’ Arthur soothed and disappeared under the blankets. He kissed a long line down the narrow frame.

‘No. Arthur. I won’t hold on.’ Merlin cried out.

‘It’s okay.’ Arthur said before taking Merlin into his mouth. He worked him with all the skills he’d been taught by his favourite knight, Leon. He moved rhythmically using his tongue and his teeth to maximum effect. He forced his palms onto Merlin’s hipbones to keep him in place as he writhed under him.

‘Art-hur.’ A strangulated cry as Merlin came. Hot and sweet. His fingers digging into the mattress and his back as curved as a bow.

Arthur rested his head onto Merlin’s chest for a moment as he stilled and hushed.

Then Merlin twisted his body and knelt up on the cot, he leaned forward to rest his forearms onto the wall just as there was a loud _rat-a-tat-tat_ on the door.

And again - _rat-a-tat-tat_.

‘Fuck!’ They said in unison.

Arthur slipped like an eel off the bed and underneath, Merlin chucked him a blanket to cover himself before jumping under the covers. ‘Enter?’

The door creaked open and an old man’s voice said, ‘I’m looking for Hunith.’

‘My mother? She’s at Edith’s house tonight.’

‘Ah, you must be Merlin.’

‘Yes. You are?’

‘Gaius. The court physician.

_Fuck. Gaius._

Silence before Gaius said, ‘Are you alone, Merlin?’

‘Oh, yes, yes, yes. Absolutely,’ Merlin babbled.

‘Is all okay, Merlin? Are you well? You look flushed. I can have a look at you.’

‘Ooh, no, no, no, I’m fine, thank you, bit of a warm evening.’

Arthur heard the old man clear his throat before saying, ‘Well, if you see Hunith, can you tell her I’m looking for her.’

‘Absolutely.’

The door clicked shut.

Arthur was behind Merlin so fast it made the boy flinch. The encounter with Gaius, the hiding under the bed, had only fuelled his fire. He roughly positioned Merlin and then knelt behind him and placed his knees either side of Merlin's. The cot creaked and complained. He slipped one hand around and pushed at the base of Merlin’s stomach and with the other he tracked his fingers down Merlin’s back and then wedged them between his butt cheeks. He ached for the boy, like no other, every nerve jangled and every hair stood to attention. He couldn’t wait. He pushed into him, slowly at first, then harder. Merlin whimpered when Arthur stole the whole way, cast his head back, and growled with the tightness and heat.

Merlin pressed hard against him with every thrust and between them they built a delirious rolling rhythm. Then, Arthur’s whole body flooded with warmth and pin pricks coursed up from his toes through to his fingers.

He came, hissing nonsense words. He leant against Merlin for a second before they both collapsed onto the cot in a shattered heap. It had been a long and eventful few days.

‘We _should_ do that again.’ Merlin said in a breathless voice.

Arthur laughed. ‘Yes, we should.’ He pushed Merlin’s fringe out of his eyes and considered him before saying, ‘I need a new manservant, why don’t you come and work for me?’

‘What happened to the last one?’

‘I shot him.’

‘What?’

‘By accident, in the leg with an arrow, he handed in his resignation the following day.’

‘I’m not surprised.’

‘Well?’ Arthur ran his finger along Merlin’s cheekbones.

‘Well, what?’

‘Do you want the job?’

‘Oh, yes. I do.’

‘We'll have to keep _us_ a secret.’

‘Of course, My Lord, nobody will ever know. I’m good at keeping secrets.’ Merlin grinned.

 


End file.
